


Writing with Needles

by stagprince666



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: But the Sheriff wants him to join the Sheriff's department, M/M, Stiles wants to be a writer, Tattoo Artist Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:54:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stagprince666/pseuds/stagprince666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles and Derek have known each other for all their lives. Stiles wants to be a writer while the Sheriff wants him to join the sheriff's department.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writing with Needles

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my Creative Writing class. It's only one chapter so far, but I might add to it if I feel up to it.

   The bell rang again. It was probably another twenty year old white girl wanting to get a pair of cherries on her ankle. Derek has already had three of those this week. If he had to sketch another damn stem, he was going to drive his pencil through his ear. He looked up from his partially finished sketch to see who was standing at the register. The deep red coat was the first thing to catch Derek’s eye. But the person in said hoodie is was kept his attention: the Sheriff’s son, Stiles Stilinski.

    Well, isn't this interesting? Stiles has never seemed to be one to get a tattoo. Scott? Yes, but not Stiles. Speaking of Idiot Two, where was he? Those two have never been separable. Not even the time when Stiles was grounded for a month: he hid Scott in his closet for three days. It was only after Mrs. McCall called the Sheriff about Scott’s three day disappearance for him to figure out that a small boy was being stode in his son’s closet. Thinking back on that, Derek wondered why it took three whole days for Mrs. McCall to realize her child was missing. Scott probably told her he was staying at Casa de Stilinski. Liars and deceivers, Derek shouldn’t service them on principle alone.

    “Hi, um, Derek, can I make an appointment for Scott? He’s apparently too sick to pick up a phone, so here I am taking time out of my busy schedule so he can permanently mark his body for god knows what reason,” Stiles talked with a flurry of waving hands and too fast words. “Oh, uh,” his already pale face got a little paler, “not that anything is wrong with tattoos, I mean, they’re kinda hot, in a ‘Hey, I’m a scary biker who just might shanck you’ kind of way,” he finished, standing a little straighter as if Derek was an angry drill sergeant.

   “Fine,” is all Derek decided to say.

   “Cool, cool, great. Anytime on Friday free? Possibly in the morning?” Stiles started to thrum his fingers on the red counter, making Derek wonder if they were worth breaking. Instead of causing bodily harm to the Sheriff’s one and only child, Derek set down his sketch to check their log book.

   “Oh, dude!” Stiles said while seizing Derek’s sketchbook, eyes wide in excitement. “I didn’t know you could draw this good! This is awesome!” His eyes roamed over the half-done puppet Derek had been drawing. “‘Everyone’s tangled… in strings,’” Stiles chuckled, “Am I right?” Derek grabbed his sketchbook back from the grabby child.

   “I don’t know what you mean,” Derek barked out. Maybe he should a drill sergeant. Boy, he missed his calling. Why wouldn’t he yell at people instead of stabbing them with a needle all day? Wait, he got his answer: Yelling at people < Stabbing them with needles.

   “What? The new Avengers trailer, obviously. What else would I be talking about?”

   “I don’t know, something equally as stupid,” Derek had a full on scowl now, some stupid eighteen year old’s antics were not something he wanted to deal with today.

    “Well, that was rude,” Stiles said in a scolding manner.

    “Stop talking or get out,” Derek said through gritted teeth. He knew he was being unreasonable with such a request, but Derek was having a hard day and Stiles wasn’t helping any. First his boss makes him redo three sketches that took him all night to do, a customer came in complaining about his tattoo hurting the day after he got it, and Laura had made fun of his ‘bunny teeth’ this morning. So today hasn’t been a very good day. And Derek didn’t want to have to deal with Stiles’ shenanigans, he will be having enough of that come Christmas.

    With no other family, Sheriff Stilinski and Stiles almost always spend Christmas dinner and any other holiday dinner at the Hale house along with the McCalls. Derek’s mom, the Sheriff, and Mrs. McCall had all been real close way back in the day. A friendship that has lasted to torture Derek with the presents of Stiles and Idiot Two. Why couldn’t they all have had a falling out like most high school friends? Or at least just drift apart slowly. Was the destruction of his mother’s most dear and meaningful friendships too much to ask for? Maybe that’s what Derek wanted for Christmas.

   “Fine, fine. Zipped lips, I hear you loud and clear,” Stiles said while raising his hands in surrender.

   Derek sighed, now he kind of felt like an asshole. He has known this bumbling idiot for his whole life and he was still calling Stiles a bumbling idiot. Well, he was. But Derek guessed that couldn’t be helpt. Once and idiot always an idiot? Hmh, that sounded about right.

   After checking the log book, Derek said: “Yeah, we have Friday open at 9:00 am, I’m sure that will work.” But Stiles didn’t say anything. Ugh, so he’s going to play childish games. “Fine, Stiles, you can talk.”

   “Oh thank God,” Stiles said, drawing out the last word, “I thought I was going to explode! Yeah, I’m sure it’s fine. And if not, tough luck; he should have come in here and done it himself. Anywho, I have to go,” Stiles said. He started to walk away, but not before he knocked on the counter again, “Hey, um, Derek? Can you maybe not tell my dad that I was here? He’ll think I’m going to get a skull and crossbones on my forehead or something.”

    Trying not to chuckle at the absurd thought, Derek nodded and Stiles left. Maybe Stiles is actually funny. Wait, what was Derek thinking? This was the kid that pissed in Derek’s shoes for telling the Sheriff that Stiles was the one that dyed his cat pink. Derek did not know that there was pee in his shoes so he put them on! He had to throw away those socks! Those were his favorite socks! Derek was so befuddled with anger from the past transgression that he couldn’t finish his sketch, so he just decided to go home.

***

     Derek didn’t see Stiles til Christmas day. Him and his father walked into the house without knocking (like they normally do) holding at least three pies, mashed potatoes, and a few perfectly wrapped gifts. Stiles said something about how his father didn’t wrap or make anything while pushing up the sleeves of his red hoodie.

    “Hey,” Derek said, feeling uncharacteristically bonhomie because of the ‘season’s cheer’.

    “Why, if it isn’t the taciturn tattoo artist. Have you made any children cry recently? Wait! Perhaps adults? Nevermind, you make people cry for a living,” Stiles said with a smirk.

     Derek huffed. “Whatever, lameo. The tree’s over here.” Derek lead him to the front room of the house. To the left of the fireplace that was the focal point of the room, stood an eight foot Christmas tree. Cladding the sides of the tree were a great variety of ornaments and lights.

     Stiles carefully put down the presents bundled underneath his arms and walked over to the fire to warm his hands. And that’s when Derek found an ornament made by Stiles from when he was younger. The picture of Stiles in the center of the popsicle stick square brought back memories of Scott, Stiles, Derek, Laura, and Cora running in their backyard playing tag. A sense of nostalgia over took Derek at the moment. Those were much more simple times: where one’s prowess was shown by how many fireflies one caught, how fast one could run, or one’s ability to stay up past 9:00 pm; however, none of these things weighed on one’s worth as a person, it’s always a lot easier seeing the best in others when looking through a child’s eyes. Derek longed for those times again.

     “Hey, Stiles,” Derek said. After catching Stiles’ attention, he pointed to Stiles’ childhood construction.

     “Oh gosh, wow. That haircut,” Stiles winced. “And,” Stiles gave a suddenly darkened sigh, “the Sheriff’s hat.” Stiles fiddled with hem of his red hoodie.

     “Uh, yeah, it looked good on you,” Derek said tentatively.

     Stiles scoffed. “Dad says it would still look good on me,” he spoke with muted disdain. Derek might have missed it, if he didn’t know him so well.

     “Is everything alright?” Derek asked, concern for his childhood friend/annoying pest.

     Stiles looked at him for a moment, considering. After a moment with a hard face, it softened, saying: “It's fine, let’s go eat.”

***

   Derek and Stiles had pretty much separate lives, so he didn’t see Stiles for a few weeks, maybe even a month and a half. But when Derek did see Stiles again, he was at the cafe (the only cafe in town) with a strawberry blonde girl. She seemed to be around Stiles’ age, and they were very chummy together. Derek didn’t know why, but he felt a slight pang of jealousy when she reached out and touched Stiles’ arm when she laughed. Perhaps Derek should intervene. You never know, she could be trying to ruin Stiles’ life just like Kate ruined Derek’s. He’s doing a service to the community by stopping someone from hurting Stiles. God, Derek could only imagine how annoying Stiles would be then: he would mope around and whine even more than he does now. Wait, Derek didn’t have to imagine, Stiles has been like that before. Something about a childhood friend who Stiles had a crush on in the past; Heather, Derek remembered her name. So yeah, Derek though he should break them up or something. He has no personal agenda at all. He’s serving the community, he told himself. Multiple times.

   “Stiles,” Derek tried to gruff out nonchalantly. Nope, he wasn’t trying to ruin this budding relationship. Whoever said he was is a dirty liar.

   “Derek,” Stiles’ voice lost some of it’s mirth, “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t drink coffee, seeing as you run on anger and the tears of small children.”

   “I’m picking up coffee for everyone at the parlor. Who’s this?” Derek motioned to the girl sitting across from the younger man, his expression going hard.

   “Oh!” his lit up making, Derek’s heart sink a little. “This is my friend Lydia. We go to school together. Allison introduced us, even though I’ve known her for years. She, somehow, never noticed me.” Lydia giggled, perhaps an inside joke? This was far worse than Derek thought.

   “Friend? I thought Scott was your only friend,” Derek deadpanned.

   “Ha ha,” Stiles said sarcastically. “I’d have you know,” pointing his finger at Derek, “I have lots of friends.”

   “Yeah, a whole three of ‘em,” Lydia said. Her voice was as evil as she looked, Derek most definitely didn’t trust her now.

   “Rude!” Stiles said with a high pitch. “I have at least four,” he said, making both of them laugh. Derek didn’t know how to fix this, what could he do? Well, he didn’t even know if they were actually dating, this could be a false alarm. He should go casual when asking.

   “So, you two are cute together,” Derek said, still standing at their table. There was a pregnant silence, then the two laughed even harder.

   “No,” Stiles said after catching his breath, “We’re not dating, we’re just friends.” Crisis averted. Derek tried not to smile, but he was pretty sure he was failing. “Why did you think that,” Stiles asked.

   “Uh,” Derek didn’t have an answer, “I don’t know, you two just look like it?” Derek finished, feeling rather unsure what to say.

   “Well, okay…” Stiles said. “Anywho. Derek, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

   “Oh?” Derek took the seat next to Stiles.

   “Yeah, well, I need advice.”

   “Okay, shoot,” Derek didn’t even try to hid his smile.

   “Um, you know how my dad’s the sheriff, right.”

   “Stiles, I’ve know you and your dad all my life, of course I know,” Derek said. Stiles is being stupid again.

   “Everyone know, Stiles,” Lydia chimed in.

   “Alright stupid question,” he held his hands up in surrender. “Well, he wants me to enroll in the police academy, but I don’t know to,” he pushed the sleeves of his red hoodie up.

   “That’s not a question,” Derek said, making Lydia snort. She almost laughed because of Derek, maybe she wasn’t evil.

   “I wasn’t finished! I was going to ask you what I should do? I know your parents wanted you to be a lawyer like them, but you went to art school and became a tattoo artist instead. Weren’t they disappointed?”

   “Well, yeah,” Derek was caught off guard by the question. “But they got over it. I told them it was my life, and that I had to do what I wanted. They were angry for a while, they didn’t even talk to me for a year while I was at college. But they eventually got over it.”

    “I don’t know what to do,” Stiles said weakly. “My dad wants me to ‘uphold the Stilinski reign’ at the sheriff’s department. And I wouldn’t mind, but I’d rather do other stuff.”

    “What would you rather do?” Derek asked.

   “I’d rather go to college for an English degree, maybe become a writer,” Stiles talked as if embarrassed, not making eye contact with either Lydia or Derek.

   “That’s awesome,” Derek said, “I think you’d be great.”

   Stiles looked over to Derek with a tentative smile, “You think so?”

   “Stiles,” Derek deadpanned, “You used to keep me up all night telling me stories you made up when we were little.”

   The younger man chuckled, “I forgot about that. Do you think my dad will be angry?” Stiles spoke sheepishly.

   “Maybe, maybe not. Stiles, your dad loves you, he’ll just want you to be happy. And if writing makes you happy, who’s he to stand in your way?”

 


End file.
